I'd allowed it to be the square thing for ye. But I know ye, Jeff. I
know what's in your BLOOD. I knew your father--allus dreamin', hopin,'
waitin'; I know YOU, Jeff, dreamin', hopin', waitin' till the end. And I
stood by, givin' you a free rein, and let it come!"

Jeff buried his face in his hands.

"It ain't your blame--it's blood! It ain't a week ago ez the kimpany
passes me over a hoss. 'Three-quarters Morgan,' sez they. Sez I: 'Wot's
the other quarter?' Sez they: 'A Mexican half-breed.' Well, she was
a fair sort of hoss. Comin' down Heavytree Hill last trip, we meets a
drove o' Spanish steers. In course she goes wild directly. Blood!"

Bill raised his glass, softly swirled its contents round and round,
tasted it, and set it down.

"The kepple o' words I had to say to ye was this: Git up and git!"

Something like this had passed through Jeff's mind the day before the
Mayfields came. Something like it had haunted him once or twice since.
He turned quickly upon the speaker.

"Ez how? you sez," said Bill, catching at the hook. "I drives up yer
some night, and you sez to me, 'Bill, hev you got two seats over to the
Divide for me and aunty--out on a pasear.' And I sez, 'I happen to hev
one inside and one on the box with me.' And you hands out yer traps and
any vallybles ye don't want ter leave, and you puts your aunt inside,
and gets up on the box with me. And you sez to me, ez man to man,
'Bill,' sez you, 'might you hev a kepple o' hundred dollars about ye
that ye could lend a man ez was leaving the county, dead broke?' and I